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Showing posts from March, 2016

Man from the Mountains

He comes from huddled huts, from  mountainsides, center of the world. Smokes, drinks, abstains. Freeform yet closes onto himself  like nightshade. Rolls into my path. My hardened armadillo. His armament protects me from  cutting winds when I climb with him, fly to him. I have a feeling of free falling--  no edging, skirting. No margins. No borders. Assured, always. Beautiful & blind.